Fear The Living
by QuinnandWade
Summary: You fight the dead, and fear the living. That's what my dad always said. That's what he taught me. But it's difficult to be alone in this world when everything turns to shit. Maybe I'll learn to trust them, and maybe they'll grow on me. But for now they're all I've got, they're the closest to family I'm ever gonna get, mine was stolen. Maybe it's time for a new one?
1. Lets see how far you make it

**Fear the Living**

**Chapter 1~ Let's see how far you make it**

"Ok, just breathe, you can do this."

Hand on the trigger, target locked, I took no time to pull. A loud crack signaled as soon as the body fell limply to the ground. I looked around, for the first time taking in my surroundings. It had seemed as if my body did all the work for me, while my mind shut down. This had been the first time I realized how scared I was, how tired, how hungry. But I had little left. I wouldn't be able to last long.

I had never been a good shot, I guess no one ever taught me before the world went to shit. I could only hit them if they were up close. Talk about taking my chances. I spun around, checking all the windows.

"Shit," I hissed, eyeing all the dead covering my house. Well, not my house. It was our house, before my family went along with the sickness. The gunshot must have signaled them. They were gaining, faster than I could remember. Usually I could outrun them, if I moved quickly I could leave.

"Ok, only the things I need," I said to myself. I did that a lot now, since I had no one else to talk to. I ran through the double doors leading to my room on the bottom floor. I went to my closet and grabbed a navy blue duffle bag. I used to use it on vacations, not any more. I ripped open drawers of clothes, piling whatever I could. Then came the handgun I had, and limited ammo. I stared at myself in my shattered mirror, god I looked awful; so bad that even I could pass for one of the dead. In the corner, held under the frame, was a family photo. I pulled it from its place and tucked it in my coat pocket. This was the one thing I would want to die with. That day was coming soon.

Footsteps echoed in the empty house, while I darted to the kitchen. I pulled open the drawer next to the fridge, and grabbed two knives. One was a butcher knife. The other was my pocketknife. I used to keep it there when I was home alone.

The front door cracked and the banging started. I knew I was doomed if I didn't leave soon. I went to it and made sure it was locked, pushing a chair under the knob to hold it for at least a few minutes. I scanned the yard once more. Toward the back, it was empty. I could leave without those things noticing. I held my pocketknife close, and swung my duffle bag over my shoulders. On normal circumstances, it wouldn't hurt. But this time it ached my bones. I needed to get food, but it was all gone. My stomach rumbled and I blew the strands of hair out of my eyes.

"Survival first, food later," I said, running to the back door. The rustling at the front continued to grow louder, and that's when the chair started to move. I turned the knob on the back door, slowly and as quietly as I could manage. When it squeaked I clamped my eyes shut, holding my breath. I opened them to glance at the door, it now starting to be forced open. The growls and moans of the dead racked my brain. I hated the sounds they made. To me, it was worse then their appearance. I turned the knob and swung the back door open, stepping down the stairs. Two of them were there, must have been a blind sight. I didn't want to fight them, with all of them ganging up on me.

I glanced at them both before taking off into the woods. I tried to run as fast as I could, but it was hard. You had to look everywhere; can't afford for one of them to sneak up on you. Maybe grab your arm, take a bight of you. That's what happened to my sister. We had made it pretty far, but she turned within minutes. She made me tell her I'd put her down, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't bring myself to kill her, even if it wasn't her anymore.

I stopped my race and walked for a little longer, looking back every few minutes to watch my back. I was winded.

"No time for breaks," I told myself. I knew if I stopped they'd catch up to me. It was like they never even got tired, or full, or… anything. They just ate, and ate some more. They never stopped. They wouldn't stop until everyone on this damned Earth was dead and rotting along with them.

"Don't run off far, your dad said to be back before sundown. Just watch out for walkers, they're everywhere," came a man's voice. I stopped my decent and froze. What if they were some type of gang? You couldn't trust anyone anymore. I learned that the hard way about a month back. The rules to survival were simple. You stay by yourself, trust no one else. That's what my dad used to tell me. God I missed them.

"Daryl, you don't have to watch me all the time. I can take care of myself."

I shouldn't have stayed to listen in. I knew they could find me quickly. It sounded like they weren't but a few steps away.

"Just check the snares," the man said again. I'm assuming he was Daryl.

I picked up my stuff from the ground and walked off to the left, I couldn't go backward, and I sure as hell couldn't go forward. I would just have to take my chances.

I walked for what seemed like miles, watching the sunshine play hide and seek behind the trees. It was a beautiful day; I forgot what those times were like. Stepping through the trees, my eyes fell on a large buck caught in one of the snares the guys must have been rambling about. I threw my bag aside, walking cautiously over to it. I stayed there next to it, knelt down. I didn't even have a reason, I just sort of zoned out.

_Click _

"Get up," someone ordered. I did as I was told, I didn't want any trouble.

I turned around to face my opponent slowly, but when I did it wasn't some 30-year-old man. It was just a kid, about my age. He had a gun pointed right at my head. And a silencer, that was perfect; all the better to shoot me and be on his merry way.

"Are you bit?" he asked, not a second after I turned around. I shook my head vigorously. "What do you want?" he questioned.

"I don't want any trouble," I said back, trying to keep a level head.

"Are there more of you?"

"No, it's just me. I don't have anywhere to go. I don't want anything from you people. I just walked in at the wrong time, I-"

He cut me off quickly, I ramble on when I'm nervous. And right now I was scared out of my mind.

"Daryl!" the boy yelled. My eyes grew wide, what were they going to do?

"Please, you can take what you want. I have a gun, some ammo. You can have it. Just don't kill me!" I said, pleading. I didn't want to die yet, and I definitely didn't want to come back as one of those monsters that ripped my family apart.

I picked up my duffle bag and slung it toward him. It crash-landed at his feet.

"Take it, you can have my pocketknife too. I don't need it, here," I said, holding it in my palm.

Another man came running out of the woods. He was much older, probably 30, maybe 40. I didn't really know. You stop keeping track of age after a while.

"Looks like we caught one," Daryl said, right before he noticed me.

"Yeah, I found more than just the buck," the kid replied back, scanning me.

"Who's this?" Daryl said, the boy shrugged.

"What's your name?" the man said, trying to approach me. I stumbled back and fell on the ground. He glanced at the kid, who looked at me like I was insane. "We're not going to kill you, don't worry," he said.

"That's what the last one said," I replied maybe a little to harshly. "If you're going to shoot me, at least make sure I don't turn into one of the dead," I said, trying to bargain with them. I didn't even know them; they could be lying. They could say they were going to help me, then kill me and take my supplies. The little I had, anyways.

"We're not going to kill you. We have a camp; lots of people there. It's safe. We can help you," Daryl said, looking back to the kid who had his gun lowered now. "That's Carl, I'm Daryl," he said, reaching out his hand. I sat there looking like an idiot for what seemed like eternity before regaining the courage to take his hand. He helped me stand, and I looked to him, then to Carl, and back again.

"I'm Brooke," I said quickly.

**Ok chapter one, what'd you guys think? I love the walking dead, and my two favorite characters are Carl and Daryl. Especially in the comics, they're great. Thanks for reading, ill be posting soon. **


	2. A new start

**Fear The Living**

**Chapter 2~ A new start**

"Brooke," Daryl said, over and over, as if he was trying to nail it into his mind. He smiled at me, and I glanced to the leaves scattering the ground. I have never been good with people, even before the beginning. I just never had a place anywhere, not that it mattered much now.

"Carl, help me with this, will ya?" Daryl said, kneeling down to the deer they caught. Carl put his gun back in the holster and walked right past me. I watched them pry the thing from its trap. I turned away and went to go grab my duffel bag. I was such an idiot. I looked like one, sounded like one, acted like one. For now I would believe them, stick around until they decided it was time for me to leave.

"Lets go, it's getting dark," Daryl said, as he and Carl haled the dead buck to an awaiting truck. It looked a little banged up, but hey, it was a car. An actual running car, I wasn't going to complain. They packed their things, down to Daryl's crossbow.

"Lets go," Carl said, and we piled into the truck. We drove for a few minutes down some trail through the woods until we came to a prison in the distance. Someone was at the front in an instant, pulling on a rope. I thought we were going to run right into the doors at the front, but they opened just in time to let us through. It pushed the dead back against these booby traps they had set up around the entrance. It impaled those things to where they couldn't move.

"Smart," I commented, to no one really. To myself I suppose. That trick could come in handy later on once I was back on my own. Daryl stopped the truck and him and Carl hopped out first. Two men ran to the car, talking.

"We caught one, before the walkers got it," Daryl said.

"We're lucky, we've already lost some of the crops. Winters setting in," a tall man said. I assumed he was rather strict. I stepped out hesitantly, taking my bag with me. I slung it around my shoulders again and closed the door.

"Who's this?" the other guy said. He was a little bit shorter. He had dark hair, but his stance read friendly. He was Chinese, or Korean, or whatever. It didn't really matter.

"That would be Brooke," Daryl said before I even got the chance to speak.

"I'm Glenn," the guy said, smiling at me.

"Hi," I said back. I didn't like meeting new people either; I knew they'd all die eventually. It was just a matter of time.

"Where'd she come from?" the taller man said, with a solid face. Daryl looked annoyed.

"Relax, Rick. We found her out in the woods, when we were checking the snares. And no, she's not bit," Daryl said, Glenn helping him with the buck in the back of the truck.

Rick sighed and stared at me for a moment. I felt uneasy, like he was deciding whether or not to through me over the fence. Then he spoke, but not to me.

"Carl, take her to the main room, get her a cell," he said, and the boy from earlier appeared next to me. I hadn't even noticed his presence.

"Fine," Carl said, walking off. I followed him, running to catch up. I guess he didn't like me much. "So, how many people do you have here?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"More than enough," he said bitterly, swinging open a door.

I walked in, seeing people walking around a large room. It had windows, which was good. I didn't particularly want to live by candlelight.

"This is C Block. We pretty much all stay here. You can pick a cell, there's more than enough. I can show you around the prison tomorrow if you want," he said, leading me through the block.

"I just pick which ever one I want?" I asked and he nodded. I stared at him for a moment before walking down and going into one cell toward the end of the block. It was more than enough. It had two bunk beds, no windows though. I slung my belongings on the top bunk and took a seat on the bottom. I stared at the floor until I noticed Carl was still standing there. I looked at him, half expecting him to close the bars and lock me in, but he didn't. He just tipped his hat and walked off.

"Weird," I said to myself, kicking off my shoes and laying down on the bed, which, to my surprise, was actually comfy. I stared at the bunk over mine before turning over and facing the wall. It was an end to a long day; a very unexpected day. I relaxed for once, and let sleep overwhelm me.

"_Mom!" I screamed, watching the door be kicked in by those things. They attacked her first, aiming for her neck. Flesh ripped from her bones and her cries of pain broke my heart. "Mom! No!" I screamed, running to her. It was too late, she was being torn apart by people she used to know and love. _

_I ran and hid in the corner, covering my face with my hands. Someone shook me and I opened my eyes. "Daddy?" I said, and he hugged me tight. It was the last hug I ever got from him. If I had known, I would have never let him go. "Sweetheart, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You have to stay strong for me ok? For your sister, please. Keep her safe, ok? You have to survive this; I know you can. I know you're scared, but it'll all be ok." _

_I was bawling, tears running down my face. He wiped them away and smiled at me. "Listen to me honey," he spoke quietly. I looked at him and blinked away the tears. "You need to fight back ok? Don't trust anyone. Only trust your sister, and yourself. Stay close; stay together. I have to go, I love you so much. Stay in here until things quiet down," he said, helping me into a closet by the door. My little sister, Summer, was huddled in the back. I crawled to her and held her close. _

"_I love you both, so much," my dad said, kissing the top of our heads and squeezing us tight. He closed the closet door, engulfing us in darkness. _

"_Daddy!" Summer called, but I did as I was told. I held her there and hushed her, rocking her back and forth as she sobbed at the sound of gunshots and screams. _

"_Kill the dead, fear the living," I said, staring at the door as the knob was moved._

All I felt was shaking. Someone was shaking me. I jumped upright ready to fend for myself before I calmed down. I was safe here.

"Are you okay?" Carl said. He looked worried.

"I'm fine, it was just a dream," I said, laughing. There was no way to escape those. I noticed the bundle he held and stared at it.

"Oh, uh, I brought you some stuff. I figured you don't have much in the bag and we have lots of supplies," he said, handing me it.

I took it thankfully and unraveled it. It had some newer clothes, ones better than mine. The ones I brought were terribly dirty as well as the ones I wore. I smiled at them, that was nice.

"Thank you," I said, still smiling. I am such an idiot.

He shrugged. "I just came to get you, dinner will be ready soon. You can meet everyone," he said and I nodded.

He stood up and returned a small smile before turning and walking out of my cell.

**Chapter 2! This is fun. I just love this show and I just- ugh- idk. Don't judge me, carls my favorite character. Hes awesome ok. **

**Anywho thanks for reading, review and tell me watcha think.**


	3. It follows you forever

**Fear The Living**

**Chapter 3~ it follows you forever**

I stood quickly and grabbed the bag from my top bunk. I unzipped it, throwing random pieces of clothing around. I looked down at the bundle of clothes Carl had brought me, and shuffled through them. There were some dark jeans I could wear, that'd be a good replacement for the ones I had. I looked through the rest, and found a grey shirt. This would be a start. I changed my outfits quickly, and tried my hardest to untangle my hair. I should have grabbed a brush or something before I left... Too late now.

I ran my fingers through my dark hair. I hated it. I always wished I had had my sisters hair. She was the spitting image of my mom. They both had golden hair; it was so beautiful and mine was just a dark brown. I was always told I looked like my dad, which can be a good thing. We both were a lot alike. I gave up on trying to look somewhat decent, and pulled it up with a hair band I always kept around my wrist.

"This'll have to do," I muttered to myself, pulling on my shoes again quickly. I stood, and wrapped my black hoodie around me. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, waiting for my vision to become less blurry. I yawned, and proceeded to walk down to the main room.

Everyone was in there, moving around and talking. They were all smiling and laughing and having a good time. That was something you didn't see often anymore. There had to be at least 30 people. That was more people then I had seen since this began. And the best part was, they looked to be decent people. Not the kind I had a run in with; those were the kind you tried to avoid. I knew now, almost two years later, what my dad meant. I understood perfectly what he tried to tell me, when I was hysterical. It didn't matter how decent they appeared, don't trust them. Don't put your life in someone else's hands. That's what this world taught me.

I stood there in the entry way, before an older woman approached me. She smiled and guided me to a set up of tables.

"I'm Carol, you must be the new member," she said, taking a plate and piling it high with food. She held it in the open, and I stared at her before reaching out to take it. This was all for me? This was way too much food for one person, right?

"We have plenty to go around," she said, as if reading my mind. I smiled and nodded.

"Thank you," I said before she led me to a table to sit. There were at least five tables set up all around the room, being filled instantly.

I sat down quickly, keeping to myself. Too many people made me anxious, made me way too nervous for my own good. She handed me a fork, which I took after a moment. I thanked her again, looking down at my plate. This was all too weird for me. People just weren't nice anymore. So why did they help me?

Two faces I recognized took a place at our table, Daryl sitting next to the woman, Carol. Carl took a spot next to the man from earlier. Rick, that was his name. Then another one I recognized, Glenn. He walked over with a pretty girl who had short hair and sparkling eyes. When she spoke, her southern accent showed. She took a seat next to me, Glenn next to her. Next, a girl that looked to be a few years older than I, took a spot. She had golden hair, like my mom did. She cradled a baby, and a bottle. I hadn't seen a newborn in years, I thought I'd never see another while I lived. It didn't cry, in fact it giggled. Rick smiled down at it; everyone's attention landed on it. I stayed quiet and smiled to myself as I listened to it giggle and coo. It reminded me of the time my sister was born. I was only four, but I remembered the first time I laid eyes on her. She was the cutest thing I had ever seen. But she was nothing but a memory now. Lastly, an old man snatched the last place between Glenn and Carl. He walked on crutches, straining to get settled in.

"Daddy, careful," the pretty girl said next to me. She watched him get in place and then relaxed in her seat.

"I'm fine Maggie, don't you worry about me," the old man said, waving her off. He glanced to the younger girl sitting close to him and reached out his hand for her to take. Maggie took his other and together, they all said grace. I sat there and watched them speak so positively about God; with a smile on each of their faces.

I was never one to really grasp religion. I mean, could anyone blame me? After everything turned for the worst, what could you do? I just lost all faith, anything to keep me going. And I tried, I prayed every day and night for God to keep me and my sister safe. It worked for me, this far. But not for her. And it was my fault she was gone.

Chatter erupted through out the room, through out the table I stayed at. None of it involving me talking, I had nothing to really say. I just stayed hushed, trying my best to lock away the bad images. It was becoming a harder task everyday.

"So, Brooke, where's your family?" the man, Rick, spoke. I looked up at him across the table from under my eyelashes before stabbing a piece of meat with my fork.

"They're all dead," I said quickly, averting any eye contact. The table grew unnaturally quite, and I swallowed hard. I didn't want to talk about my family, I already relived it each night. It was all I ever dreamt anymore. It was always someone dying, being ripped to shreds. Or turning on me, trying to eat me up. It was my own personal hell, and I didn't want to stay.

After dinner, I helped everyone clean up. Everyone scrubbed their own plates, and did their fair share. This was a good setup they had going, I'll give them that.

Most of the people had wandered off to their own cells, or went to chat with someone else. I stayed put in the main room with a few others, not really knowing my place. After I helped get things cleaned up a bit, I left to my cell at the end of the block. Everything was dark now, night had fallen a while ago. I went and dragged the bars to the other wall, closing myself in the cell. I took a seat on my bed, and tore off my shoes. I set them next to the wall, and took the photo out of my jacket.

I ran my fingertips over the picture, that time wasn't so distant. I wished things had never changed. I actually missed school and my not so great friends. I scanned the picture, looked at the smiles. We looked so happy...

"I'm sorry dad," I said, fingers stopping where he was in the picture. I sniffed, fighting back tears. "I couldn't do it, and you were counting on me. I couldn't save her. I tried, I really did. But I let you down. I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't made for this world. She needed me and I wasn't there to help her. She died because of me. You and mom would hate me," I said, watching as the tears splashed on the photo.

"They wouldn't hate you," someone said from the bars of my cell. I snapped my head to the side, and recognized who it was right away.

"I want to be alone," I said softly, turning back to the only image I had left of my family.

"It's not your fault, you shouldn't blame yourself," he said, arms draped through the other side of the bars.

I shook my head, he had no idea.

"It was my job to protect my sister, and I let her die. I'm a terrible person, Carl. When she died I couldn't even put her down. I'm too weak to live in a place like this, you people should have killed me when you saw me. I wish it had been me and not her. She didn't deserve to die," I replied, arguing.

Because it was my fault she died. It was my fault my mom got ripped apart. It was my fault my dad had to offer himself to save us both. It was my fault I didn't save her. And it's my fault she's still wandering the earth in pain. Because I'm too fucking weak to do anything right.

**so there it is! I really like writing this, especially because this is one of my favorite shows ever. I'm so excited for season four, it looks great! And the newest comic came out not that long ago, and it was fabulous. As always, review and tell me what you thought. Opinions are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading**


	4. Run along home

**Fear The Living**

**Chapter 4~ Run along home**

I sat there, grieving. This was a normal thing now; it was every night. I would give anything to erase the bad and be left with the good. I don't want to remember the pain that they went through, I don't want to be the one that has to live with it.

I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket and turned to look at the bars again. He was gone, big surprise. I got up and walked to them and looked through to see him wandering off down the hall before turning out of sight. I shook my head and shuffled back to my bunk. I held the photo close, tucking my legs against my chest. All I could do now was move forward. But right now, I was going to sleep. Actually rest for the first time in ages, and not worry about waking up to one of those things at the end of my bed.

* * *

I opened my eyes slowly, to where I could see just a little bit. The sun peeked through the windows and into my once dark cell. Well, at least I slept a bit. I moved my head a bit to look around; the bars were open. I sat up quickly, looking down my bed. And he was just sitting there. He wasn't looking at me, just at the floor. i stared at him until he noticed me. He smiled at me, the hat shadowing his face.

"Good, you're up. Lets go," he said, standing up to face me.

"Where are we going exactly?" I asked, going to get my shoes by the wall. This was the first time i realized the walls stained red with blood. And then I felt uneasy about staying in this cell. Because someone had died in here, this was their cell, not mine. I picked up the shoes and walked back to my bunk, sitting down and pulling them on.

"Well, I said I was going to show you around, didn't I? It's best if you learn where things are, that way you don't die," Carl said. I laughed but he just looked serious. I swallowed and looked down. Now wasn't the time for jokes, I suppose.

"Right," I said, standing up once I had my shoes on.

He walked out of the cell, and down the hall. "Lets go! You're slow!" I heard him yell. I sighed and shook my head, grabbing the picture and tucking it in my pocket. It must have fallen on the floor when I went to sleep. I followed his trail. it seemed like we walked forever. We stopped after a minute, and I ended up next to him by double doors. It read A block on it.

"Are you sure it's safe?" I said, looking at it. There were a few streaks of blood going across the doors, and over the label. This place didn't scream home sweet home.

"Is any place safe?" he replied, looking at me.

"Guess not," I said as he opened the doors. The creaks they gave off echoed through out the area. All I could hear was our footsteps; even when trying to walk softly we were loud. I felt through my pockets and found my pocketknife. Not the best weapon to use I suppose. But I wasn't going to shoot. Hell, I didn't even know how to do it correctly. Carl looked at me and actually laughed.

"A pocketknife is your weapon of choice? Think that's going to save you from walkers?" he said.

"It's worked so far, I'm still here aren't I?" I shot back.

"Can't argue with that," he replied, turning and cautiously stepping forward. "I've never been to some parts of the prison, so this should be fun," Carl said, taking his gun from the holster. I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. I pushed the strands of hair from my face and huffed. Rolling my eyes, and walked faster to catch up.

"Oh yeah, dying sure sounds fun," I said, maybe a bit too loud. He silenced me and looked over the corner. I stopped and we waited and listened. A few growls, a drawn out moan, shuffling of feet coming from the hall around the corner. I closed my eyes; I hated the noises they made. A chill ran down my spine when I heard them growling at each other.

"Walkers, two," he said. I opened my eyes, and he signaled me to move closer, and then he turned 'round the corner and shot.

"Well that was easy," I said, stepping over the bodies. The smell was awful, they had definitely been in here a while. Carl ran ahead, checking out the halls and looking through the doors to find everything empty.

"Ok, this place is clear, lets go," he said, grabbing my hand.

"Where to now?" I asked, being dragged out the block.

"To walk the fences. You can put that pocketknife to good use," he said and I scoffed.

We ended up leaving the main room, and heading outside. That's where I was yesterday. There was a bit of a slope, and crops were sprouting everywhere. They had a good thing going, something that could last. Carol was right, there was more than enough food for everyone here. For once, I was happy. This was more than I thought possible. I never would have guessed people would build something stable in a world like this. But they did; they proved me wrong.

"So, who's the farmer?" I asked, knocking the gravel around with my shoes.

"Hershel taught us how to farm, lucky we have him."

I nodded, not knowing who Hershel was. I guess I'd find out soon. We went down to the gates; the dead were everywhere. A few kids were piled up close to them, waving at them. I wanted to move them back, but they were just kids. They didn't know any better.

"I thought I told you to stop with the name calling. Those things, they're not like us," Carl said to one of the little girls. She looked like Summer. Same pretty hair, she even had it pinned up the way I remember Summer wore it.

The kids looked at him and stopped immediately, and walked off to play. I watched them go, and I felt sorry for them. They were just kids. They didn't realize the danger, not yet anyways.

"They're just kids, you know," I said, reasoning with him.

"It doesn't matter. Walkers are dangerous. They're not toys, and they're not pets. They need to grow up, no more kid stuff," he said harshly.

"They're only a little bit younger than you. How can you be so cold? They don't know any better; they don't realize how dangerous those things are," I said, getting angry. I usually kept my cool but Carl was out of line. Just a minute ago he was laughing, actually taking on the role of a kid. And now he stood there taking the form of an adult.

"They'll find out just how dangerous they are," Carl said back. This wasn't going to end nicely.

"How can you say that? I don't know if you realize this, but you're still a kid. It'd probably be good to have some friends, try their life style for a bit. You're acting like their leader," I said, crossing my arms.

"There's no one else to be their leader. Who's going to teach them? You? Just because we let you stay here, that doesn't mean you get to change how things work. There isn't time to be a kid anymore, this world is survival now, that's it," he said, looking at me like he wanted me dead.

"Well that's just it then. I wasn't the one who asked to stay. Tell you what, you can have fun over here. I'm sure it's what you would want. I'll leave you alone," I said, shaking my head and walking off. I went and found the group of little children. They were playing next to a pin of pigs and piglets. I got on my knees and smiled at the little girl from earlier.

"Hey, my names Brooke," I said, sticking my hand out. She took it and smiled at me, showing two missing teeth.

"I'm Abby," she said. She wore rolled up jeans, and a light blue shirt. It matched her blue eyes. My guess was she couldn't have been more than seven.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Abby. Can I play?" I asked and she nodded, smile never fading.

"We're playing tag," a little boy said, coming over and standing next to the girl.

"That sounds fun, who's it?" I asked.

I stood quickly when the boy ran after the girl saying he was it. I watched the kids run around the pin. I just wanted to have fun. I just wanted to be a kid again, since I never really had the chance to be one. I looked back to the fence where Carl stayed put, arms crossed. He looked mad, but I didn't care. Maybe being a kid would do him some good.

**Ok so there it is. You probably hate me, but I do think carl should let up a bit. I mean, if you've watched the newest episode, you'd know carl named the pigs and then argued that it was wrong to name the walkers. I do know that the kids don't realize the danger, and some of them will probably be killed off, but the kids look to him like an adult. And carl wanted a bit of his childhood back, I think he deserves it. Otherwise, hes going to go completely cold.**


	5. Some apology

**Fear The Living**

**Chapter 5~ Some apology **

I played with the kids for what seemed like hours before they ran off to do their own things. It was nice, playing like I was little again. I forgot how messed up things were now, and I had wanted that for a long time. Maybe Carl was right; I knew he was. But I still thought it was out of line to yell at those kids for doing that. They weren't hurting anyone, right? I wouldn't have yelled at Summer if she did the same.

I watched the kids run up the hill and into the prison, and I followed after a minute. It would do me some good to meet the people around here. I walked up the hill and past the tables and grill they had set up outside. I had to admit; this place felt like things weren't so bad. It felt like things were almost normal again.

I stepped into the main room; the room was cool. I saw the same girl from the other day, holding the baby. She rocked it back and forth. Well, maybe she was nice. That'd be a start; make some friends instead of being a total outcast. I walked up to her and smiled; I bet I looked like an idiot.

"Hi," I said, and she turned and smiled back.

"You're the new kid I keep hearing about," she said, putting the bottle down on the counter.

I laughed, and took a seat at one of the tables next to her. She moved to sit next to me. "People are talking about me?" I asked.

"Well, yeah. That happens when there are new people. So, have you made any friends?" she asked, talking and looking down to the baby in her arms. I shook my head, looking around.

"No, not really. I try to keep to myself," I said, following her gaze. Moving to change the subject, I said, "Who's this?"

She looked to me and smiled. "This is Judith," she replied. "Do you want to hold her?" I nodded and she passed her to me. She was so precious. I would have guessed she was at least half a year, probably older. I smiled down at her and listened as it giggled at us.

"Are you the mother?" I asked. It was only fair, the girl looked really young. She shook her head, taking the baby back into her arms. She stood quickly, patting its back and going to retrieve the bottle she laid down.

"No. She passed a while back; we couldn't save her. Carl had to put her down," the girl said. I looked at her, not saying anything. That was awful to here. And now I felt terrible about what I had said earlier. I got up and stood there, about to leave.

"Oh, I never got your name," she said, turning to me.

"Brooke," I said, and she nodded.

"It was nice to officially meet you, Brooke. I'm Beth," she replied. I nodded, and headed through the gate and down the hall. I didn't mean to come off as rude, but I just wasn't in the mood to go into conversation about people dying. It seemed like that was the only topic that came up anymore.

I went to my cell, and collapsed on the bed. I sat up when I heard kids laughing and running around. The girl Abby stopped by my cell and waved at me.

"Have you seen Patrick?" she asked. I shook my head; I didn't know who Patrick was.

"No, sorry," I said and she shrugged.

"No ones seen him all day, maybe he's still sick," she said, looking around.

"Maybe," I said, lying back down.

I heard her shallow footsteps walk off down the hall to rejoin the other kids. I relaxed and stared at the top of the other bunk, tapping the metal with my fingernail.

"Hey," someone said, and I turned over. I didn't want to talk, but my brain didn't listen.

"What do you want?" I asked, I was still angry.

"I just wanted to apologize, for what I said."

I sat up at that. Wow, was he actually apologizing? "It's fine," I said, swinging my legs over to sit on the edge of the bunk. I was mad, but I would get over it. He had his reasons; I had mine. "I'm the one who should be sorry, I was a jerk. You're right. Just because I'm here, doesn't mean I get to change the rules," I said.

Carl nodded and replied, drastically changing the subject. "I can teach you how to shoot, you know. If you want to learn, I can teach you. Dad said I was a perfect shot," he said, and I laughed.

"Sure you are," I said. I'm sure he was a good shot; I wasn't going to argue. I heard shuffling feet again, and sighed. "Guess Abby's back," I said, looking up. But it was far from Abby. "Carl, look out!" I yelled jumping up from the bed. It lunged for him, missing him by an inch.

He turned just in time, moving back into the cell. He grabbed his gun in a split second and shot. The body fell to the floor right in front of him, and Carl crawled away from it before standing. People started running down the hall, yelling for us.

"Are you okay?!" Carol said, stopping when she saw the walker on the floor. "Oh my god," she said, covering her mouth.

"We're fine, it snuck up on us," Carl said, going and kicking it over on its back. "Patrick?" he said, and I knew now who Abby had been talking about.

"Abby said he was sick, I told her I didn't know where he was," I said, joining them.

"Patrick asked to leave story time yesterday; I had no idea he was that sick. He was fine earlier wasn't he?" Carol asked. Carl shook his head. He knelt down by the body and looked around it. Then he stood; putting his gun back in its holster.

"He's not bit," Carl said. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"What? There's no way he could turn unless he was bit," I said.

"It doesn't matter how you die. You come back either way," Carl said. He looked up when everyone started gathering around.

"What happened?" Daryl asked, and no one really had an answer. The kid couldn't have been but a year older than me. I couldn't think of anything that would cause him to die. The children started to gather around. When I saw Abby I went over to her and bent down to where I was at her level.

"Don't look," I said, and I allowed her to cry into my jacket. I didn't want her to see. I knew they kids all had to of been friends, and they didn't need to see one of their own like that. She gripped at my shirt, her sobs being muffled for the most part. It broke my heart. This was just what I needed, having to take on the role big sister.

"It's okay," I said, combing through her hair softly. That's what I did whenever Summer lost it. It always seemed to work, and thankfully it did again with Abby.

"He was sick. I guess no one knew how bad it was. We're lucky everyone's okay," Carol said, speaking up. Rick stepped in; he must have been outside when everything happened.

"He was sick, and in the prison? Everyone is not okay, he could have attacked people," Rick said, raising his voice only to bring it back down when Daryl spoke.

"Rick's right. Everyone needs to lock their cells at night from now on. If he had attacked someone in the night, then no ones really safe," Daryl said. The whole block erupted in chatter and people yelling back and forth for what they should do or why they weren't more careful. I knew this place wasn't going to last. It was there in my mind as soon as we drove through the gates; I just wanted to believe in safety for once.

I got up and held Abby close. She grabbed my hand and I walked her away from the swarm of people.

"Everything's going to be fine," I told her. I lied to her; I couldn't tell her the truth. It was for her own good; it was for my own good.

**Oh we all knew this was coming. I for one am so excited for the new episode tomorrow. I have big hopes for this season, its going to be a wild ride. Anyways, review and tell me what you think. Oh I have plans for this story mwahahaha!**


	6. We're all family now

**Fear The Living**

**Chapter 6~ We're all family now**

I'd lasted here two weeks. Two weeks was an accomplishment. I wouldn't have thought it'd be possible to hold this place up against those things. I just hoped it'd last a while. I'd met so many people. Glenn was the one who filled me in on the refugees from Woodbury. That camp sounded awful; I couldn't imagine what it was like. Carl said they were useless; that his dad should have never brought them here. I thought it was good that he helped them; without Rick, they would all be dead. I was glad I got to know them; they were my new family. As close to a family as I would ever get, anyways. But I'd have to learn to work with them; to trust them. Rick actually talked to me more now than he had when I first ended up here. He put me on the fence most days; I even helped Hershel out with the crops. When I was little my grandfather taught me a few things; never thought that'd come in handy.

Beth and I talked on occasions, and she even let me spend time with Judith every so often. Carol and Beth were the ones looking after Judith most of the time, which wasn't shocking. Everyone was so busy trying to keep this place protected. Even Carl shrugged it off; it was like he didn't really care. I wasn't going to pretend to know why, but he had obviously been through hell and back. Now wasn't the time for questions. I had also met Michonne. I had heard of her, but I didn't get the chance to meet her until a few days ago. She came back with a handful of things from clothes to random items she thought would be useful. She was strong; I knew she was trustworthy. And she was funny; everyone here was a group. Tightly knit together, everyone knew the other. Everyone said she belonged here. It made me wonder if I did.

"She was pretty," Abby said, looking down at the picture. We were sitting on my bed; she was letting me braid her hair.

"Yeah, she was," I said, parting another piece of hair with my index finger and thumb. All I saw in Abby was my own sister, and I started to treat her like my own sister.

"Do you miss her?" she asked, turning her head just a bit to look at me. Her blue eyes flickered with curiosity. I stared at her for a minute, pondering whether I should continue this conversation. But if she wanted to know, I'd tell her. "All the time," I replied, taking the hair band from my wrist and fastening the braid. I pulled on the sides of the braid, thickening it out a bit, and let it go. It dangled down her back, and she grabbed it and let it dangle down her right shoulder.

"She wouldn't want you to be sad," Abby said, trying to get me to smile.

I looked down at the mattress. "I know. I'm trying not to be. Besides, it did let me find you guys," I said, and she handed me the picture. I taped it back over my bed, and turned back to her. She wasn't paying attention, so I seized the chance to lighten the mood and attacked her. "Tickle monster!" I said, and she wiggled around laughing uncontrollably.

"Brooke, stop I can't breathe!" she said, trying to fight back. I used to hate to be tickled; someone always ended up getting hurt. My dad would make me laugh until my sides ached from breathing. I sat up and tucked some hair behind my ear. "Okay, fine. Time for bed," I said, and she whined.

"But I like it in here!" she said, and I sighed. I would let her sleep in here, but I didn't want to break the rules.

"Abby, you know we go on lock down at night," I said, and she stopped complaining.

"Fine," she said, getting up and hugging me.

"I'll see you in the morning," I said, and she turned back to me and smiled. She turned and left, and I got up and closed the bars to my cell. No one knew why Patrick had gotten so sick all of a sudden. Some people said he must have gotten sick while at Woodbury, but he would have turned by then, right? I had no clue why or what caused him to die. But i wasn't going to take any chances. I didn't want to feel unsafe in my own room, if you could call it that.

I knew it wasn't fair; everyone knew. We held a proper burial for him; lying him right next to another Daryl told me was T-Dog. I wish I had gotten to know all those people that were buried. I'm sure they were heroes. Carol told be that T-Dog saved her life, and that was the only reason she was alive. I liked to think the other ones lying in that field were heroes too. The stars were out tonight, their light shining through the windows and into my cell.

"Tomorrow's another day," I said, kicking off my shoes and collapsing onto the beat up mattress.

* * *

I got up earlier than usual. Most of the time, people let me sleep in but today I was on the fence. I went to the main room, where everyone was up and eating what they could. I sat down at an empty table, with a small amount of food. I never really ate a big breakfast.

"Can we go play today?" Abby said, with two other kids running up next to me.

"Not today, Abby. I'm on the fence," I said, and she frowned.

"But you promised!" She whined, crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do my part around here. Maybe we can play tomorrow," I said, taking a bite of my food. "Fine," she whined, turning on her heel and leaving along with the other kids that accompanied her. I hated disappointing her, but it wasn't like I could just refuse to work. It was only fair I did my part in keeping this place secure. After breakfast, I went to the fence. I picked a spot, and hit my target right in the head. The fences were easy, it was better for me.

_"Where are we going?"_

_"To the fence. You can put that pocketknife of yours to good use."_

And I did put it to good use. The dead dropped like flies when we had more than five people on the fences. But lately, they were starting to pile up, over toward tower three. They just kept coming; it didn't matter how many you killed. They'd be replaced in seconds. Rick said when winter set in they would slow down a bit, and let up on the fences. But winter wasn't for at least a month. The kids from Woodbury were over near tower three again, waving at the dead and talking to them. I sighed, Carl wasn't going to like that. One of the girls stuck her hand through the gate, and that's when I ran after them.

"What are you doing?!" I yelled, did they not learn anything from their last camp? I knew they had to of been sheltered, but they really had no idea what those things could. What they would do to them; if given the chance.

"Nothing," the girl said, crossing her arms and giving me an attitude.

"I saw you reach your hand through that fence!" I said, raising my voice. Was she just going to act like I was crazy or something? I saw clearly that she was risking her own life for something that didn't have one anymore.

"No I didn't," she replied, putting her hands on her hips.

"Do you realize that those things could kill you? Do you understand how dangerous they are? They wouldn't think about ripping you apart! They dont think, they act! and if you're not careful they'll kill you!" I said, and she stepped back. I didn't mean to yell at her, but these kids obviously knew nothing about this world.

"They're hungry, we just want to help them," one of the boys said. He looked sad; to me and to one of the dead gripping the fence. My eyes grew wide, and I looked around to make sure no one had seen anything. "You're feeding them?" I asked, crouching down to their height. The boy nodded slowly, watching me. I stood up quickly, and they all grabbed for my hand.

"You're not going to tell are you, Brooke?" one of the girls asked. They were clinging to me like a life line. I let out the air I had sucked in and turned to them again.

I shook my head softly, prying their hands off me. "No, I'm not going to tell. As long as you don't do it again, okay?" I asked them, to which they nodded quickly. "Don't feed them," I said sternly, and I stood. "Are we clear?" I asked.

"Yeah," the same girl said, glaring at me. I looked to her, and the other kids. I gave one nod, and walked back to my place at the fence.

* * *

I was in my cell, folding a basket of clothes. I added another Tshirt to the stack. Carol and I had been doing the laundry since I stopped my round at the fences. I debated whether or not to tell. If people found out someone would be in deep shit. I knew that if they kept feeding them, those fences wouldn't hold up. I just prayed that they listened to me; I seemed to get the message across.

"We're back," Carl said, walking in. I hadn't even known he left until earlier. Beth told me Daryl, Carl, Glenn, and Maggie had all went on a run. I had done one run since I came here, and things went terribly wrong. We didn't lose anyone, thankfully. But someone had bumped a car, and the alarm just wouldn't stop. The dead were on us in a minute; we didn't even get anything useful. That's why I stayed at the fences now, I was more useful there.

"Did you guys find anything?" I asked, grabbing another shirt; trying my best to get the wrinkles out. Carl hand't really talked to me after what happened to Patrick. I didn't blame him. Me being a typical bad luck charm and all.

"Not really. We found half a gallon of gas, some canned food. It's not all that useful," he said, sitting down on the bed.

"Well maybe next time will be a better run. I'm sure you guys'll find a use for all of that. You know, gas comes in handy to go places. Food is essential to live," I said, laughing to myself. He called me a smart ass; I always had something to say. It was kind of funny though, pissing him off and all. I took the pile I had folded, placed it in the rubber made basket, and got everything sorted for Carol.

"There's not many places left to look," he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Well, you'll think of something, I'm sure," I said, walking out of the cell "I'll be right back." I went down the hall and to the main room. I set the basket on the table and smiled at Carol, who was organizing the clothes for people to take if they needed some. There was another pile to the side.

"Need anymore help?" I asked and she shook her head.

"No I'm fine, thank you," she replied. I exchanged a wave with Beth, who was sitting close to Carol while she worked. "No problem," I said, leaving back to my cell.

"Well looks like I'm done for the day," I said, kicking off my shoes by the wall. Carl didn't even look up. "Hello? You still there?" I asked, taking a seat next to him. I bumped his hat, crossing my legs. "Hey, cowboy," I said, laughing. That joke was bound to come up at some point. I mean the kid did go everywhere with it.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, and I noticed what he had. I sighed, folding my hands. I tapped my feet on the cold ground, trying desperately to fill the awkward silence.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me. I'm not a baby, it's in the past now. People don't need to treat me differently. Everyone's lost someone," I said. He didn't respond so I just sat there. "What was her name?" he asked, finally looking up.

"Summer, she was 10," I said. I didn't want to be sad anymore. I wanted to remember the times we had together as a family. "She used to play outside all day; let me braid her hair all the time," I said, smiling. "We used to make up all kinds of games."

"I'm sorry," he said, and I shook my head.

"Don't be," I replied, and he handed me the picture. I took it from him, leaned over and taped it back to the wall.

"Did I ever show you my mom?" Carl asked, standing up.

"No, you didn't," I replied. I sat there, not knowing if he actually wanted me to come with him.

"Come on, I'll show you," he said, taking my hand. I got p and he dragged me down the block and into a cell. He climbed to the top bunk, grabbing a picture frame from a bag. He leaned back down and handed it to me. They were all smiling. Carl looked a lot younger here, and Rick didn't look nearly as stressed as he did now. I stared at the woman to the left of the photo. She was so pretty.

"You guys look happy," I said, sitting down.

"She told me that I needed to be strong," Carl said, looking over my shoulder at it. I saw his reflection in the frames glass. He looked so sad; and he never looked that upset around me. He was always serious or something, but never sad. Carl's mom was right, you did have to be strong in this world. If you weren't strong you wouldn't make it. Carl would be fine, he had what it took to last.

"She must have been great," I said, handing it back to him. He stood and returned it to it's place in the bag and jumped down from the top bunk.

"Yeah," he said. I knew it probably hurt him to talk about it. "I just miss her sometimes," he finished. I got up and hugged him. Pretty bold move; that's me. No, I just wanted him to know we were all together now. I let go and smiled at him. "We're all one big family now," I said. "We care about each other," I said. He stared at me before I stepped away.

"Your mom was right," I said. "You have to be strong here."

He didn't move from his spot, just looked at me from under his hat. "Just don't let yourself get so bad to where you feel nothing," I said, and walked out of his cell.

**Ok there it is, I try to post frequently because I'm on break at the moment so I have time on my hands. I am so excited for tonights episode! Oh this season is gonna be awesome. Thanks for reading, review and tell me your thoughts! **


	7. Nothing lasts anymore

**Fear The Living**

**Chapter 7~ Nothing lasts anymore**

"Got it," I said, shooting another can from its place. Carl had been teaching me to shoot, and I had to admit, I had improved.

"That's enough for today, you can practice tomorrow if you're up for it," Carl said.

"Yeah, sure. What ever you say cowboy," I said, laughing. He rolled his eyes, checking his ammo. That's when the screams rang out, all over the yard. Carl ran toward the prisons main entrance, while I went to the outer fences. This was worse than I thought.

* * *

"_I'm not going to just leave you here, I wont. I can get help Summer, you're gonna be fine," I said, sitting on my knees next to her side. She shook her head, tears flowing down the sides of her cheeks._

"_You have to leave me behind, I'm slowing you down," she said, grabbing my hand with her cold, shaky one. She had had a fever for an hour now, ever since she was bit. The thing came out of nowhere. I never even got a good shot on it. She was down in seconds, screaming in pain. It had ripped a huge chunk out of her upper arm, and I acted out of rage. __It was just over and over, stabbing the thing until it stopped moving and fighting me. Blood seeped through my white shirt; some was Summers, some was the dead's. I had tried to stop the bleeding, and now my once white shirt was stained through._

"_Dad said-" _

"_I know what dad said, Brooke. That doesn't matter anymore. You have to leave me behind. You've seen it; I've seen it too. You know what's going to happen," she said, staring at me. She was right; I knew what was going to happen._

"_I can't do that," I said, shaking my head. "You know I can't."_

"_Please, Brooke. I don't want to be one of those things," Summer said, struggling to get a word in. _

"_Okay, I'll do it," I said, and she smiled regardless of the situation._

"_Pinky promise?" she said, raising her left hand._

_I nodded, locking fingers with her. _

"_Pinky promise," I said, bottom lip quivering, watching as she stared blankly at the now darkening sky. Rain started to pour, and she stopped breathing. Just like that, she was wiped from existence. _

"_Summer?" I asked, shaking her by her fragile shoulders. I let her go, crying into my hands. "It's all my fault!" I screamed, watching the rain fall and wash away the blood. I sat there, by her side and just sobbed. "I'm so sorry," I said, scooting away from her. I felt like I was dying; I had nothing to lose any more. I sat there, up against an oak, ripping at my hair; screaming. I didn't care if it made the dead come knocking, because I had nothing left to lose. _

_That's when I heard her claw at the ground, and growl at me. I looked up from my feet, staring at her. Her eyes used to be such a beautiful blue, but now all I saw was evil. I grabbed my gun from the bag I had, and stood from the ground. She was struggling to stand; struggling to come kill me. I walked to her, crouching down so I was almost at level with her. _

_Why did it have to be like this? Wasn't it enough that your loved ones died? But now you got to sit and watch as they came back, only to try and make you join them? _

_I placed the front of the gun right in the center of her forehead, and held her back with a fistful of golden hair with my other hand. I jerked her head back, watching as she still tried to fight me. She wouldn't give up; she just kept trying to bite me. But I remembered she used to be my sister, she used to be my reason to live another day. I pulled on the trigger, trying so hard to get the job done. 'Just shoot her!' I told myself, but I couldn't do it._

"_I'm sorry, Summer. I can't do it," I said, letting her go to see her fall to the ground. I ran and grabbed my bag, walking quickly down the woods. I could see her figure walking around from where I stood, joining the other dead ones in their walk that would last forever._

* * *

"This fence is going to cave in!" Maggie said, yelling for everyone to hear. People came running; pushing back against the dead that kept piling. I snapped out of my trance, and ran to tower three. All seven of us pushed back against the fence, but it was no use. I looked to the side, seeing a small pile of rats. They were all torn up, missing heads or limbs. The kids obviously hadn't listened to me when I said to stop feeding these damn things.

"Get everyone away from the fence!" Daryl said, running to warn everyone. Maggie moved the children away, making a run for the gate to the inside of the prison.

"Brooke, what are you doing? Move!" Glenn said, signaling for me to run for it. I let go of the part I was trying to keep up, and ran after the group. I looked back at the fence; just in time to watch the beams break clean through. Everyone was running back to the inside of the prison, but I stopped dead in my tracks and watched them pass me.

"Abby!" I screamed, watching as she tried to outrun all the dead climbing over the fence. She must have taken off as soon as I did.

She was crying and screaming, looking over her shoulder at the monsters trying to grab her. One caught her leg, making her trip over her own weight. SHe kicked at it, crawling away before it got her. I ran to her as quickly as I could, firing into its head. I grabbed her just in time, pulling her away from the massacre that was already happening. People were being attacked; all screaming in pain or for the pain of others. It was all around me. I picked her up and ran still, even with the extra weight. Gunshots rang out, and the dead fell behind me. Someone had my back up in the tower. Abby was crying into my jacket, grabbing fabric. The gate was up ahead; Glenn and Maggie were waiting for me.

"Come on!" he yelled, gesturing for me to move faster, as if that would help me.

I passed through the gate, dropping to my knees. They slammed the entrance shut behind me, and stepped back as the dead shook frantically at the second fence dividing us between them.

**I didn't want my story to follow the tracks of the show, so I tweeked it a bit to make it my own. I like how this is going, but with break over and done with, I won't post as often as I'd like. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, took me a while to start it off and decide where I wanted to go with this. Thanks for reading, review and tell me your thoughts. **


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